II

About the author:
Angel lives in the middle of England and has a passion for fantasy, sci-fi, mystery, and romance. When she's not writing, you can find her in the past as the academic Lady Summer with her Tea Brigade boyfriend.
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And from the poetry,The men find the threads Of happinessAnd their own work In bitter shreds,Where love alone will not sufficeTo quench the bubbling,Burning waters;In the good, they only findThey’re bitter- where the weepingWomen will whimper onceTo signify that the chimeThey have drowned with thoseLamenting breaths,And love alone, Does not fulfil them.It does not suffice.It cannot hold the longitude It wishes to clutch,From images, performances,All made as one creation,Merely a relationTo synchronise the falsityAnd reality to one,More opposites when they areTwinned to the watchful eye,Who waits over the edges,Seeing only what must be:Perpetuality is little differentFrom perplexity,Where eternity might be ironyIn irons interlocked,My flaming heart moreFlammable, hotter by deceit.

Author guidance

Feelings based on my own bipolar experience of loving and clinging onto someone who is leaving. A group dinner meant that neither was in the focus, and yet he was the one from whom I could not remove my eyes. "Take care"- when there had been no other interest? Why are men made of mixed signals? I walked all down St. Giles' Street, the street...

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